


What Happens at Feasts

by raven_of_hydecastle



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: ...but still a spitfire, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arthur is the best wingman in history, Crack Fic, F/M, Fluff, I believe this is called 'shipping', Light Angst, Merlin is thousandfurs, Merlin-AU, Morgana is princess, Non-Canon Relationship, fairytale retelling, furball - Freeform, she's not crazy, spitfire couple, thousandfurs - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 22:01:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18060962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven_of_hydecastle/pseuds/raven_of_hydecastle
Summary: Morgana is sick of finding things in her soup; it's the last night of the ball, and somebody is going to pay.





	What Happens at Feasts

**Author's Note:**

> Morgana is Uther's daughter and Crown Princess (because that's a good idea). That said, she's not the calmest person in the world, and one more ring in her soup and she might just snap...

Morgana spat out her soup.

“Again!” she cried, picking a small, gold thimble out of her bowl. “I can’t believe this--guard, send for the cook!”

Elyan bolted from the room, glad to be sent away. This was the third time the princess’s food had been booby-trapped this week. He didn’t want to be in the cook’s shoes when she went off the rails on her.

True to form, Morgana was furious. She berated the cook for allowing someone to slip something into her food; what if had been poison, or sharp metal? Uther, grim-faced, silently supported his daughter’s tirade.

Eventually, the prince took pity on the servant.

“Enough Morgana,” he sighed, and to the cook, “you are dismissed.”

The cook fled from the room pale as bread dough. Morgana turned her anger onto her brother.

“Arthur, how dare you?” She seethed, “don’t you understand how serious this is?”

“Only from the three times you’ve scared poor Mrs. Mary witless,” he said, “along with our guests. This is Yuletide, not a peace signing with Mercia; don’t be so paranoid.”

“Arthur, there have been three attempts to choke me--yes, choke me!” Morgana cried, raising her arms angrily, “as Crown Princess I must always be vigilant.”

“Nobody said you had to be an ass about it,” Arthur sang under his breath.

“Arthur!” Uther snapped.

Arthur shrugged.

“What, it’s not like I’m wrong, and there’s no harm in these pranks. Whoever’s doing it is probably just having some holiday fun,” he drawled, then smirked, “besides, I don’t think Morgana minds too much.”

His eyes were on the gold rings on her fingers, which had been baked into her dinner rolls the last two nights. Morgana quickly covered her hand, stemming the blush that threatened to creep up on her face.

“Shut up,” she hissed.

“What, are you upset that your mystery man hasn’t been caught yet?” her brother grinned.

Morgana hated him more at that moment than she had in her entire life. So what if there’d been a charming noble she'd danced with once--okay, a few times--who refused to give her his name. It wasn’t his business, or anybody else’s. And yet, the knowing glint in his eyes told her that he knew who it was, but no amount of wheedling or bullying had managed to break his silence.

“Children, calm down,” Uther said, “tonight is the last day of festivities. If these tokens cease appearing we will know they’ve been nothing but harmless pranks. If not then rest assured Morgana, I will personally investigate the matter.”

“Thank you father,” she murmured, turning the thimble over in her hands. “That...means a lot to me.”

As in, if she didn’t find him tonight, then either he’d be lost forever or dragged in front of the throne and probably imprisoned. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so angry about the tokens, but it was easier to be angry than embarrassed about this. And those engravings on the inside of the rings... _In your smile, I see something more beautiful than the stars...You are more precious than the air I breathe…_ Well, with declarations like that how else was she supposed to react?

While Morgana was internally banging her head against the table, another course was served. The offending soup was taken away by an amused Merlin, who raised an eyebrow at Arthur from over her shoulder. Morgana almost swatted him away, still flustered by the message she’d spied on the thimble ( _love grown on thorny ground is hardy and endures_ ), when she saw a wisp of silvery fabric under Merlin’s jacket sleeve.

She grabbed his arm and yanked him closer. Merlin dropped the tray, and Arthur and Uther both cursed.

Morgana rolled up Merlin’s sleeve; under the patchy jacket he always wore was a tunic made from the finest silver, brighter than the stars. Merlin tried to pull away, but Morgana was not an expert swordswoman for nothing, and his spindly arms had nothing on her.

“It was you?” she asked in shock.

“Um…” Merlin said.

Arthur and Uther’s gazes swiveled between Morgana and the servant; Arthur’s worried hope, and Uther’s complete confusion.

“You’re him?” she repeated. Merlin fidgeted uncomfortably, going very, very red.

“...You like it?”  he finally managed.

“LIKE IT!?” Morgana bolted out of her chair, forgetting that the entire court was watching. “LIKE IT--Merlin, why on earth would you ever--”

“Because I love you!” He shouted back, looking a bit angry. His jacket rolled off one shoulder, revealing more of the impossibly beautiful finery he’d hidden, “and obviously it’d never work out between us, so I figured I’d confess before Uther married you off to that ogre!”

“I’m not marrying Cenred, are you crazy?!” she shuddered in revulsion. One of the guests looked offended by her reaction, but frankly, Morgana didn’t care. “Despite what you think I _do_ make decisions, and I wanted to be friends before you became so rude to me!”

“What else was I supposed to do?” Merlin demanded, “walk up to Uther--peasant-hating--Pendragon and tell him ‘oh, by the way, I think I’ve fallen in love with your jaded, sarcastic daughter, can I marry her?’ Pushing you away was all I knew how to do!”

“Well, obviously that failed,” Morgana spat.

“Alright, calm down you two--” Arthur began, looking worriedly at the steak knives next to Morgana. Luckily, Uther still seemed to be processing everything, but if Arthur knew his father it wouldn’t be long before he picked up on Merlin’s treasonous statements.

“--Can’t believe you did this,” she continued, talking over her brother, holding up the evil thimble. “For a scorned lover, you’re awfully persistent!”

“I’m _sorry_ for having _feelings_ my lady,” Merlin’s voice was dripping with frustration, “but I’m just a _hopeless servant_ with _less intelligence than a rock,_ by your words. Obviously, my continued infatuation is just another sign of my idiocy; at least I know where I’m not wanted, you can be sure of that. Consider this my last ditch attempt to finally forget you.”

He began walking away, face red from the humiliation of being publicly scorned. And as if he hadn’t been shamed enough, Morgana scrambled after him, face enraged.

“I can’t believe you!” she snapped, stalking forward. Merlin met her head on with his own stubborn frown. “Do you have eyes for knotholes--did you seriously not think about why I’m still wearing these bloody rings!?”

She thrust her hand in front of Merlin’s face. He looked down at the gold rings--a matching set his mother had left him when she’d died. One for her, one for his father.

“I don’t know, for spite?” he mumbled, privately remembering his happiness when she’d worn the ring the first time.

“Don’t mock me,” she said quietly. “I may not be th--the most sensitive person, but I’m not cruel….I just...I needed to know who it was that made me so hap--” She swallowed, “Gods, you could’ve just _told_ me, Merlin!”

Her voice broke, and she exhaled slowly, eyes beginning to redden.

The court strained to listen. Arthur crossed his fingers while Uther furrowed his brow, finally starting to make sense of everything.

“Did you honestly think I didn’t care?” she asked.

Merlin ducked his head, sadness flooding his features. “I didn’t want to make assumptions, and, well...I _was_ wearing a mask at the party.”

Morgana snorted. “I meant earlier, before you pretended I was a hideous person.”

He took her hands, running his thumbs in little circles around her palms. His fingers caressed her rings tenderly as he spoke too quietly for some to heard. But Arthur caught every word. Apparently, so did Uther.

“You are...hideously beautiful anyway,” he muttered, “and sardonic, opinionated, and about as stubborn as a mule...I suppose I love you for your faults, which is reason enough for madness. You’re such a jewel that I knew it wouldn’t be long before some dashing lord snatched you up. I’m just a runaway; I figured I’d save myself the heartbreak”

“I’ve missed our friendship,” Morgana said truthfully, “and when I met you at the ball--so happy and excited, I honestly didn’t care who was under the mask. I was thinking of you the whole time.”

“And you didn’t even figure it out until now,” he sighed. “I overestimated your intelligence.”

“Says the man wearing a silken tunic under his shirt,” she retorted.

“...I didn’t have time to change,” he confessed. “Do you really…?”

His eyes were hopeful but guarded. Morgana bit her lip and nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“Really?” Merlin’s eyes widened. He looked at Arthur, speechless. The prince gave him a double thumbs up and mouthed something like ‘kiss her’.

Merlin looked at Morgana, his face flushed. Morgana stuck the thimble on his finger; while he stared at it in confusion she grabbed him by the hair and kissed him.

When they broke apart his mouth was hanging open in shock, which made Morgana laugh. The hall burst into laughter and talk as if a spell had been broken. They held hands, smiling at the ground (or in Merlin’s case, frowned as he tried to figure out where he’d gone right.)

Then Uther slammed his goblet on the table, and everything went silent.

“Guards!” he bellowed, pointing at Merlin, “seize him!”

Soldiers ran up to grab Merlin. The servant muttered ‘figures’ as they roughly pulled his arms behind his back.

“ _You_ ,” Uther said, hate seeping into every syllable, “how _dare_ you to assault my daughter in public, harass her with these--these trinkets, and presume you have the right to love her; _you_ , nothing more than a filthy peasant I should never have taken in. To the dungeons, at once!”

“Father!” Morgana said, rage beginning to replace happiness. Arthur was already running from his seat and shoving the guards away from Merlin as the princess went off on one of her famous tirades.

“Merlin has faithfully served Camelot for several years _in case you forgot_ and has saved both my and Arthur’s lives more than once. What’s more--” she said, when Uther opened his mouth, “--he’s made it plain that the _last_ thing he intended was to have _any_ relationship with me--for which I am extremely angry, by the way--and finally, IF YOU CAN’T TELL WHO KISSED WHO YOU SHOULD ABDICATE YOU SENILE OLD XENOPHOBE! I’M ADULT YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO ANYMORE!”

Uther stood stock still, face white with rage as the hall echoed Morgana’s soul-rending shriek.

“You fell in love with _that_?” Arthur whispered.

“Isn’t she wonderful?” Merlin breathed back.

Uther finally regained his voice...with a vengeance.

“I WILL NOT PUT A PEASANT ON THE THRONE!” he roared, stalking down from the throne until he and Morgana were nose to nose, “much less one so addled he can hardly walk in a straight line. I’d rather you marry an ogre--”

“Oh, like you’d planned to marry me to that snake Cenred?” she said testily.

“That was a beneficial treaty for Camelot and Merica--”

“You were going to marry me to Cenred!” she said, “a barbaric, evil warmonger, for some marshes!”

“At least he has land, not like this creature,” he waved vaguely at Merlin. “Who knows what his parentage is!?”

“Actually, I do,” Arthur interrupted.

Uther and Morgana turned to face him. Their combined glares melted the men behind him, but Arthur had lived with both father and daughter long enough to avoid instant death.

“As it turns out, my servant Merlin isn’t much of a servant at all,” he said, pulling a thick scroll out of his sleeve. “He was reluctant to confide in me at first, but once I persuaded him that I could find proof of his claim he relented.”

"Speak son, what is it?” Uther said.

“Yes, just tell us!” Someone (Gwaine?) called from the crowd.

Arthur unrolled the scroll, revealing a beautiful sigil of a falcon battling a snake. The art was so intricate that it looked too delicate to breathe on. On the top of the parchment was the house name: The Royal Lineage of Avalon. Near the top of the scroll, under Balinor Dragonis, was Merlin’s name.

Uther’s eyes bulged as the scroll was handed to him.

“Merlin, you’d better tell the rest,” Arthur said, pushing his friend forward.

“R-Right,” Merlin looked pretty intimidated by Uther and the court, but he breathed deep and began. “It’s as it says, I’m the first prince of Avalon by my father’s side. He was a good man, but once he died--and my mother soon after from an illness--my aunt took command. Only...Lady Sophia wasn’t my aunt, but a troll; she planned to kill me at first, then decided it would be better to marry me.”

Morgana felt sick; suddenly Cenred wasn’t looking too bad.

“Obviously, I didn’t like that, so I made her a deal; if she’d gather me four impossible things, then I’d marry her.” he smiled ironically at Morgana. “You’ve seen me wear the three she managed to find, my lady.”

“Your clothes--?” Morgana’s eyes latched onto the intricate, inhuman beauty of his finery.

“Yep,” Merlin said, “one like the sun, one like the moon, and one brighter than the stars. I thought that would stump her, but she managed quite well. But she never did finish the coat of a thousand furs. I believe the tailor’s quarters caught fire near its completion.”

He smiled smugly and Morgana stifled a laugh; that was too bad, and _such_ a coincidence, to be sure. Uther was not so amused, and he tapped his foot impatiently.

“Well, I wasn’t going to sit around and let her try again, so I took what I could and left,” Merlin said. “It was a pretty hard journey, but I decided to rest in Camelot for a few days and ended up saving Arthur’s life. Then you called me to be his manservant, sire, and I fell in love with Morgana. Of course, since I was now just a servant I thought the match was a pipe-dream. But when I heard she was marrying Cenred I decided I at least wanted her to know I cared... And, well, that’s that.” He finished lamely, looking wearily at Uther.

Before the king had a chance to say anything though, Morgana spoke up.

“Look, father, now you can’t complain about anything; Merlin is a prince, and Arthur’s already verified his claim to Avalon’s throne. He likes me enough to put up with what you call me ‘high maintenance’ personality--in fact, he seems to thrive on it--and has a kingdom of his own that can be joined with ours; a perfect match if I say so myself.”

She briskly walked over to Merlin and took his arm, daring anyone to argue. Uther grit his teeth, but his eyes were already reevaluating Merlin, taking in his attire and the royal seal in his own hands.

“Avalon is useless if you cannot rule it,” he began, glaring at Merlin.

“Easily done father,” Arthur interrupted, “Camelot is already at war with magic. If we battle Lady Sophia we will have the people on our side. Given the recent state of affairs in her kingdom--over taxation, enforced labor, and so on--it should be relatively easy to win back.”

“Morgana is my only daughter--”

“And hard enough to please as is!” Arthur groaned, “honestly Father, were you planning on her staying single forever? I can vouch for Merlin, I’ve known him for years and there’s no more an honorable man than him in all of Camelot. If there’s one person who can put up with my demanding, pig-headed sister it’s him--and he’ll enjoy it too!”

Uther looked mutinously at his children, still looking for a counter-argument.

“If it really bothers you just make Arthur king instead,” Morgana smirked, and Uther sighed.

“Very well,” he said, defeated. The battle was won.

Merlin looked back and forth between the pendragons, hardly believing his luck. Who cared about his kingdom, Uther Pendragon had just approved him (albeit reluctantly) as a son-in-law!

The great hall erupted in cheers as Uther returned to his seat. The knights all swarmed Arthur, Merlin, and Morgana, laughing and crying at the sudden turn of events.

“Way to go Merlin!” Elyan exclaimed.

“Yeah, what a shock,” Lancelot said, “I never expected you to be a prince.”

“Although I question your taste in women--hey, hey, I meant no offense!” Gwaine pleaded as Morgana glared at him.

“I just can’t believe I’m not dead,” Merlin said. “Are you sure this isn’t heaven?”

“Heaven wouldn’t have  Uther glaring at you like that,” Mordred commented, nodding to the throne where Uther was crushing walnuts with his bare hands.

“Ignore him, he’ll get over it,” Arthur said. “I told you it’d work. You should have seen him Morgana; Merlin was so distraught at the thought of you marrying that pig Cenred that he cried himself to sleep in my chambers--”

“That wasn’t how it happened!” Merlin said, “you know it’s not!”

“There, there lover-boy,” the prince grinned, “you’ll recover. Oh, I spy Gwen. So long!”

“Arthur, get back here!” Merlin hissed.

The feast died down eventually, and it wasn’t long before Morgana wrestled the royal seal from her father and blackmailed him into letting her marry Merlin. Lady Sophia was eventually dealt with, and the three costumes she’d given Merlin sat neglected in his truck. He never was one for fancy clothes. Although, he mused, he really would have liked a cloak made from a thousand furs.

He shrugged and put the thought aside as Morgana entered the room. After all, why would he need a fur coat when his wife’s spitfire was enough to keep him warm?

**Author's Note:**

> Thousandfurs has a special place in my heart, so I hope Hans Christen Anderson doesn't rise from the dead and strangle me for adopting it into the Merlin fandom. ;^-^
> 
> Merlin is thousand-furs because why not? He's perfect for it, already being undercover in the castle, so it was easy to adapt. Morgana made a good prince, and I've been wanting a good Morgana/Merlin fic for a while. (most of them are so tragic T-T)  
> That said, he's going to have a pretty rough time getting Uther's approval...if he ever does. (laughs)
> 
> *I wrote this in one sitting so I might come back to clean it up/change the last lines.


End file.
